


It Goes On and On

by IambicKentameter



Series: Avett Brothers Album [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Flower shop owner! Arthur, Groundhog Day AU, Hipster!Arthur, M/M, Reincarnation AU (implied), Tattoo Shop AU, flower shop au, magic merlin, punk!merlin, tattoo artist!merlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 14:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14917448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IambicKentameter/pseuds/IambicKentameter
Summary: Arthur was perfectly content to just live his life, helping Gwen out at the flower shop they co-owned and eating at the same little restaurant every night.He was not, however, content to let the idiot tattoo artist next door kill his flowers every morning in what was probably a vague attempt to flirt with him.





	It Goes On and On

Arthur was watering the potted flowers outside of his shop when Some Asshole tripped over a pot he’d _just_ finished watering, breaking it and spilling dirt everywhere.

“Watch it, Asshole!” Arthur barked, nearly spraying the Asshole with the hose due to how fast he’d spun around.

“Hey!” The Asshole didn’t seem affronted, instead, as though he’d been given a delightful surprise. "You're the guy who works for Gwen."

“I am, and who the hell do you think you are?” Arthur’s hose was at the ready, prepared to spray this asshole again if he tried anything else. He’d already killed some lovely potted daffodils that Arthur had been tending to.

“Merlin.” He offered his hand to shake, but Arthur scowled at it.

“And what are you doing here?” Arthur scowled.

"Wow, Rude.” Merlin chuckled. “What if I were a customer?”

“Are you?” Arthur raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Merlin snorted. “No. I own the tattoo parlor next door.”

“So you’re just passing by?”

“Innocent as a daisy.” Merlin pointed to one of Arthur’s displays. “Ha. Daisy. Get it?”

“Those are tulips.” Arthur scowled.

Merlin held his hands up in surrender. “I know when I’m not wanted.” He said with a sly smile.

~*~

“He’s a total punk, too.” Arthur complained after a stilted sip of his coffee. “He had piercings, Gwen, _piercings.”_

“Where?” She waggled her eyebrows. “Anywhere scandalous?”

“Eyebrow, small stud on his tongue-“

“Oh? The tongue is scandalous, that counts.”

Arthur ignored her. “He’s got all kinds of tattoos too, random swirly symbols and a dragon-“

“Sexy.” Gwen teased.

“No.” Arthur snapped. “Tacky and weird.”

“Sounds like an interesting fellow.” Leon had crept over a few sentences ago. He refilled their coffee without asking. “Your food should be out in a minute, by the way.”

Leon, being the owner of the diner they camp out in every Thursday afternoon, had been privy to many similar conversations. Arthur was very easily irritated, and could be found on quite a regular basis bitching about someone new.

“Good, I’m starved.” Arthur grumbled.

“Who is it this time?” Leon asked.

“ _Merlin._ ” Arthur growled.

“Sit down, Leon.” Gwen beckoned. “It’s a long one.”

“He is such an asshole!” Arthur continued. “No regard for common decency _whatsoever!_ He knocked over our daffodils, Gwen! You know how long it took for me to coax them out of the dirt!”

“Going by his description of this Merlin, I’m guessing the guy’s kind of a punk?” Leon mumbled out of the side of his mouth to Gwen.

“Oh, absolutely. It’s kind of hot, I’d think.” Gwen smirked and sipped her coffee.

“Oh no.” Leon shook his head dramatically. “All punk or goth sightings pain Arthur in his little hipster heart.”

Arthur, who had stopped talking long enough to pay attention to the conversation that was happening without him, interjected. “Hey! I’m not a hipster!”

“Really?” Leon chuckled. “Eating in a hole-in-the-wall diner, owning your own business…”

“Everyone in this town owns their own business. And your food is the best.” Arthur shot back.

“Tell it to your beanies, Arthur.” Gwen said, sipping her coffee nonchalantly.

“Beanies aren’t-“

“You’re an Art History major.” Leon pointed out.

“And the _juice cleanses-“_

“Alright!” Arthur shut them up. “Alright you hens, you’ve made your points.”

Gwen grinned victoriously. “Leon, add a slice of lemon meringue to our bill.”

“Oh, no Gwen. For an admission like that, it’s on me.” Leon smirked and Arthur groaned.

 

~*~

**Day 2:**

Arthur woke up on what he assumed was the next morning. It was odd, though. He didn’t remember having anything heavy to drink the night before, but he didn’t remember anything after Gwen ordering the lemon meringue pie. He didn’t remember getting drunk, but in the end, it didn’t matter.

He dressed for the day to the tune of the radio, digging his green apron out of the laundry.

 _That’s funny._ He thought. _I thought I pulled you out of the laundry yesterday?_  He shrugged it off. He probably did the same thing the day before yesterday, and had the same reaction. This was his life now; night classes must really be taking their toll on him.

Gwen was already behind the counter in their little flower and garden supplies shop by the time he got down from their upstairs flat, greeting him with a bright smile and a soft hello—she was with a customer.

He went ahead and proceeded outside, to set out the flowers who liked a bit more sunshine than the rest on their lovely little shelving unit and began watering them. The shelves were the first thing he’d built for Gwen after she took him in and gave him a job, shortly after his father had disowned him for-

It was at that moment that a pot shattering brought his attention back to the present moment. He swung around, spraying the assailant with his water hose, and crying out.

When Arthur had the good sense to stop squeezing the nozzle in order to cut off the flow of water, he could see that the poor dripping sod was none other than Merlin.

“Merlin?” He muttered.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Merlin shook out his hair and investigated the damage to his solid black shirt- which looked exactly as it had the previous day, typical goth punks, only owning monochrome clothing. “Hey, you're the guy that works with Gwen, right?”

Alright, now Arthur was confused. “Yeah, we’ve been over this.”

“What’s your name again, mate?”

“It’s Arthur.” He responded flatly.

“Lovely to meet you.” Merlin grinned at him before reaching down to his waist and removing his soaked shirt.

“What _are_ you doing?!” Arthur asked, alarmed by the young man disrobing in public. Apparently the tattoos weren’t just sleeve tattoos either, they extended onto his shoulders and crawled down his chest towards his nipples, which Gwen would be delighted to know were _pierced._

“Taking my shirt off?” Merlin said, as if Arthur could possibly be kidding about public exposure. “You did sort of soak me through.”

“Yeah, sorry.” If Arthur didn’t seem genuine, it’s because he wasn’t.

“It’s alright mate, I’ve got a spare in the shop.” Merlin balled up his wet shirt in one hand. “Care to join me?”

“…No?” Could Merlin not tell that Arthur didn’t like him?

“Suit yourself.” Merlin said with a shrug, turning and jogging back to the tattoo parlor next door, where he worked.

Arthur scowled. “Suit yourself.” He said to himself in a mocking tone while returning to his previous task of watering the plants.

~*~

Later, back at Leon’s cafe, Arthur was having trouble explaining his day to his friends.

“Saw that guy again today.” He started casually, stirring his mostly-untouched coffee rhythmically.

Gwen hummed curiously. “What guy?”

“That guy! Merlin!”

Gwen shook her head and made a vague noise, as to say ‘I don’t know him.’

“Remember, the guy from yesterday who demolished our daffodils?”

“Someone destroyed our daffodils?! It took you ages to get those to grow!” She shrieked.

“Yes, Gwen! It was _Merlin_!”

“I hate this guy already.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Really? You were all over him yesterday.”

She shook her head again. “No? I don’t know this guy, Arthur.”

“The guy with the tongue stud and the tattoos? Remember?”

“Sounds like an interesting fellow.” Leon interrupted to pour Gwen some more coffee. “Your food should be coming out any minute, by the way.”

“It’ll give Arthur something to do other than talk.” Gwen giggled.

“Who is it this time?” Leon asked.

“Sit down, Leon, it’s a long one.” Gwen said.

Arthur’s ears pricked. “What?”

“I told him to sit down.”

“You… Leon already knows about this guy. I told him yesterday.”

Leon shook his head. “Who, tattoos and piercings? This is the first I’ve heard of him.”

“Oh my god, this is the exact conversation we had yesterday. We’ve done all of this before! Are you two dense?!”

Gwen rolled her eyes, only to have Arthur grab her by the shoulders and stare straight into her eyes.

“Gwen, everything is exactly the same as yesterday!” He shook her shoulders, but she still didn’t seem the slightest bit touched.

“…It’s called having a routine, Arthur.” She said, confused.

“No, no, you’re not understanding. It’s _exactly_ the same. I ran into Merlin again, and we had _the same_ conversation. Except this time, I actually sprayed him with the hose.”

“Who? Arthur, you’re spouting nonsense, you’ve only mentioned this guy once, and that was _today_.”

He groaned. “Gwen, my entire day has been _exactly the same_ as yesterday.”

She shook her head. “Think about this logically, Arthur. You had class yesterday, so how can today be the same?”

“What?!” Arthur reeled back. “I haven’t had class since Wednesday!”

She nodded slowly, as if not wanting to spook a wild animal while simultaneously saying ‘uh-doyeee’. “Arthur, today is Thursday.”

He fell silent. What? Today had to be Friday. But alas, he checked his phone, and the date was there, along the top of his screen. Thursday.

~*~

**Day 3:**

He must have passed out after looking at his phone. He must have. Because when he woke up the next morning to a familiar song on the radio, he couldn’t remember anything from the night before.

He got up, rubbing his eyes and stumbling over to his laundry basket.

His apron was sitting on top, right where it was yesterday morning. He must have laid it there out of habit yesterday, surely sometime after that crazy dream.

He got ready for work then, same routine as always, sniff testing the apron just to make sure (it had another day in it, at least.) before heading downstairs to water the outside plants for the morning, and maybe do a bit of pruning. He had half a mind to ask Gwen about it, but when he came downstairs into the shop, she was with a customer. He decided he'd tell her later, at dinner. Maybe they could go to Leon's again, and he could ask both of them at once. 

He was halfway through watering the petunias when he heard an all-too-familiar sound coming from the daffodils.

He groaned before turning, forgetting he was still squeezing the trigger on the hose. “You.” He growled, just as he splashed the familiar stranger for what seemed like the third time that week.

Merlin squawked in response, holding up both hands in a useless attempt to fend off the attack. “Hey! Is that really necessary?!”

“You broke my pot! Again!”

“Again?” Merlin tilted his head curiously.

Perhaps it was the fact that this man had broken his poor potted daffodils for a third day in a row, or the fact that he was _acting_ like he’d done nothing wrong, but Arthur had the deepest burning urge to spray him again.

Oh, fuck it.

He sprayed him again.

“Hey!” Merlin cried out again, flailing even more desperately. “Okay, that time felt malicious.”

“Oh, maybe it’s because you’ve been _killing my flowers_!”

“Woah, not on purpose!” Merlin looked down at his shirt sadly. “I just washed this…”

“Once, I’ll believe, and sure twice is a coincidence, but _three times_ is-”

“Three?” Merlin tilted his head again, and Arthur wasn’t sure if it was cute or annoying.

 _Definitely annoying_. He decided. _‘Cute’ is just Gwen talking._

“Yes. th-”

 _Oh, shit._ Merlin was taking his shirt off again.

He twisted it up tight, wringing all the excess water from it. “Well, that’s not going to work. You sure did soak me through.”

If it was an invitation for an apology, Arthur wasn’t taking it. “Rather the point.”

Merlin gave a slight chuckle at that. “I have another one in the shop, don’t worry.” He paused slightly, looking over Arthur contemplatively, the barest smile still on his lips. “If you want to, uhm, join me?”

Arthur opened his mouth to immediately deny him, just as he had yesterday, but he hesitated, and instead asked, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why invite me in?”

Merlin shrugged. “Dunno. I’ve got a pot of tea on and some cakes in the fridge. I doubt it’ll make up for smashing your daisies-”

“Daffodils.” Arthur corrected.

Merlin grinned at him. “Yeah, your daffodils.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Tea? I won’t put the milk in first.”

That earned a chuckle from Arthur, and he set down his hose, calling over his shoulder to Gwen that he was taking a short break, before following Merlin into his shop.

“So… do you sell Cacti at your flower shop?” Merlin asked casually, sifting through the drawers behind his station.

“I'm sure we can order one.” Arthur said with a shrug. "It would surely spruce up this place a bit. Have you ever thought about getting some fresh air in here?"

Merlin ignored him. “Excellent, I’ll take one. I think I’ll name it Arthur.” He smirked, and Arthur knew he was waiting for Arthur to ask, and then he could deliver the perfect punchline.

So Arthur waited patiently.

Merlin, bubbling with energy and anticipation of his own joke, said it anyway. “Because you are a fucking prick.”

Arthur scowled. “Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I thought you were supposed to be apologising with tea and cakes.”

“Oh!” Merlin dashed to his kettle, which had stopped boiling but was probably still warm. “Yes! Two sugars and a dash of milk?”

“Yes.” Arthur replied, without considering how or why this basically-stranger knew exactly how he took is tea. Perhaps it was just common.

It was a few minutes before there was a mug on the counter in front of him, and he took these minutes to look around Merlin’s shop.

“Are you the only artist here?”

“Hm?” Merlin looked up from where he was doctoring his own cup. “Oh, yeah. Just me.”

“Just you. That’s doesn't seem like… I dunno, industry standard?”

“Yeah, most shops have quite a few people in them.”

“So why don’t you?”

“I just… haven’t found anyone yet.” Merlin said with a shrug.

“It’s a small town. I hate to be a downer but it’s going to be hard to find people that aren't already here.”

Merlin shrugged, his eyes never leaving Arthur. “I’ve got some feelers out. I think I’ve found one person that I’m looking for.”

~*~

**Day 4:**

Arthur woke to his alarm the next morning, with no memory of going to dinner with Gwen, like they’d planned, nor any memory of leaving Merlin’s shop.

That day, to Arthur’s ever growing frustration, was exactly the same as the last two.

Merlin broke his pot and Arthur sprayed him with the hose.

Merlin invited him in after taking off his shirt, and Arthur accepted.

They chatted idly, before he went to dinner with Gwen and Leon.

They seemed delighted that he’d made a new friend, regardless that they’d been irate at Merlin for destroying his flowers not two days earlier.

Then Arthur wakes up again to his alarm.

Rinse, lather, repeat.

The four days following that were exactly the same, and Arthur was about to go nuts.

~*~

On day 9, Arthur decided to do something. I mean, there are only so many times that a man can wake up to the same song on the same day without going postal.

Now, of course, what he decided to do wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but it was something.

He forewent the apron and the hose, and instead headed straight for Merlin’s tattoo shop. A bell above the door gave a weak tinkle and Merlin looked up from where he had a needle poised above a client’s arm.

“Merlin!” Arthur called out to him. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure.” Merlin wiped off the bit he was working on before putting needle to skin again.

“In private?”

The buzz of the needle stopped and Merlin stared at him. “What for? What do you want?”

“I just want to talk to you.” Arthur insisted.

Merlin sighed. “Sure then. Just… Let me finish this, alright? I’m nearly done.”

Arthur only had to wait patiently in the waiting room for about thirty minutes, a time he spent by flipping through the art books on the coffee tables, most of the photos in which were printed out from the neighborhood drugstore or something, but the work that they depicted was phenomenal.

Merlin caught him with one of the photobooks in his hands, which he closed quickly and tried to look innocent.

“Are you… thinking of getting some ink?”

Arthur shook his head. “No. They’re… pretty good though.”

“Thanks.” Merlin gave him a shy smile. “Anyway, Arthur, I’ve got another client coming in at about noon, do you want to maybe get something to eat, or do you want to talk here?”

Arthur shrugged. “Here is fine.”

“What is it? Is everything alright?” Merlin’s smile faded.

“This seems mental, but… Wait, we haven’t met yet.”

“What do you mean? You own the shop next door, I’ve heard of you.”

“But you didn’t question how I knew your name, you didn’t even think that I was a client when I came in here, or ask why I’d want you to speak with me in private. You don’t think any of this is weird.”

“What’s your point, man?”

“You _know_ me.”

Both of them went quiet for awhile, until Merlin finally said it. “I do. I do know you, Arthur.”

Arthur sighed in relief. “Does that mean you know what’s going on? Why I’ve been living the same day over and over again?”

Merlin nodded slowly. “If anything, I’m the cause.”

This response was met with a very affronted Arthur having to be sat down in order to calm himself while Merlin very casually explained that he was a sorcerer, and this was the least traumatic way for him to tell Arthur not only that magic was real, but that they’d been together many times before, and in many previous lives.

“I figured out the last time around that this was the best way to do two things: one, convince you that I am indeed a sorcerer, and two, get you to know me a little better.”

Arthur shook his head. “This? This was the best way? You couldn’t settle for like, asking me for coffee?”

“As you’ve seen, you and I rarely hit it off on the first try. You’re...an acquired taste.”

Arthur baulked. “Me?! You! You’re the acquired taste! You killed my flowers!”

“Technically, since I didn’t kill them today, they’ll stay alive.” Merlin said with a happy little shrug. “Bright side, right?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “It’s about intent. And you’ve killed them nine times so far-”

“Eight.” Merlin corrected. “I didn’t kill them today.”

“God, you are _such_ an ass!” Arthur groaned, running both hands through his hair. “First you put me through some sort of magic time loop, then you kill my daffodils!”

Merlin chuckled to himself. “I had to get you used to the magic thing somehow. You’d leave me if you thought I was making it up.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes at him. “We aren’t together.”

“Yet.” Merlin clapped a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “How ‘bout I take you out to lunch to make up for, well, me throwing you into the deep end.”

Arthur glanced at his hand, but didn’t shrug him off. His hand was warm. Nice. “Sure, fine. Leon’s place?”

“I haven’t been there yet.”

“You’ll like it.” Arthur stepped past him, if only to head for the door. “Everyone does.”

Merlin grinned and followed him out eagerly.


End file.
